


Muse

by TheMalhamBird



Series: Plantagenet Student AU [1]
Category: 14th Century CE RPF, Richard II - Shakespeare
Genre: Clubbing, First Meetings, M/M, Student AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMalhamBird/pseuds/TheMalhamBird
Summary: Third year Art Student Robert de Vere stumbles across a muse in a club. Or, to be more accurate, a muse nearly stumbles in to him...Or, Robert and Richard meet for the first time, and there is an instant attraction and would probably have ended in sex except that Richard is drunk and Robert is a gentleman.





	Muse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartofstanding](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofstanding/gifts).

The club pulses with music, so loud that the very air seems alive and Robert swipes another drink. It’s far too dark, the pulsing lights were getting on his nerves, and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing here except that it’s better than sitting in his flat trashing multiple canvases in an attempt to make his brain work which it _won’t, _and it hasn’t all summer, and he’s going to fail his final year and someone slams in to the bar next to him, making him jump and spill his damn rum and coke as they shout to make their order heard over the music. “Hey!” Robert snaps, fully prepared to have a go at them for their clumsiness, and finds himself staring speechless as they turn to face him with a crooked grin and reply _“Hey,” _eyes raking him up and down like he wants to jump Robert then and there. And Robert has absolutely no objection. The other man, from what Robert can see in the flashing lights, is _gorgeous: _long hair, slinky top, skinny jeans and- Robert looks him up and down in return- high heeled shoes. Dead gorgeous. Robert decides against yelling, and displays his most charming smile instead. “I’m Robert,” he says, offering his hand. .

“Richard!” Richard turns to grab his drink from the bartender and downs it in one, before turning back to Robert and taking his hand. Rather than shake it like Robert had expected, however, Richard yanks him on to the dance floor and pulls him close.

He smells of lemonade and Malibu and strawberry shampoo. And Robert dances with him, moving to the music, and Robert’s heart is pounding with the music, with Richard’s heart. And Richard moves against him, winds his arms around his, and Robert can’t really see him all that well but he can feel him, the litheness of his body beneath Robert’s wandering hands and before he knows what he’s saying it’s out of his mouth- “I want to draw you.”

“Draw me?”

“Yeah I’m.” Robert is suddenly thankful for the dark; it must be hiding his blushes. “I’m an art student. This isn’t, like, a come on, or anything, I’m not going to ask you to pose naked or anything-“

“Pity.” Richard presses closer to him and brushes his lips to Robert’s cheek. “I would take my clothes off for you any time.”

Robert laughs, but Richard pulls back suddenly, pressing the back of his hands to his mouth and inhaling. The laughter dies on Robert’s lips. “Are you alright?” he asks.

“My brain caught up with my mouth,” Richard winces. “I need some fresh air, I don’t-“ he glances wildly around, shoulders rising and falling rapidly all of a sudden. “Where’s the exit?”

“Here.” Robert takes him by the arm and pulls him through the crowds, out of the side door and on to the empty pavement. Richard stumbles away from him and over to the far wall, bracing himself against it and breathing heavily. “Are you okay?” Robert asks again, concerned.

“Yeah, I just, um….” Richard turns around and slumps against the wall, closing his eyes and brushing a strand of hair out of his face. It’s a beautiful reddish-brown colour, Robert can see now they’re out here, lit by street lamps and not strobed lighting. It’s blissfully quiet. Richard wraps his arms around himself. He’s shivering in his sleeveless top, in the cold September night air, and Robert pulls his jacket off and hands it over to him. “Thanks,” Richard smiles briefly up at him, embarrassed, as he takes the jacket and pulls it on. “It, uh, it was a bit much, suddenly. The music and the, the loud and the lights and-“ his eyes widen suddenly and he stumbles away, doubling over as he retches and vomits in to the gutter. It’s mostly liquid. And Robert wants to draw him like this, too, a kind of- Christ, he doesn’t even know. Fragile beauty, maybe.

“Sorry.” Richard says, turning back. “I don’t- I’m not- God, this is embarrassing. You’re really hot. I think I drank a bit too much- I should- I should go home.”

“Want me to walk you?” Robert asks.

“No, thanks,” Richard says. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for an evening. I’ll call a cab, stop myself doing anything else stupid in front of the cute guy who wanted to draw me before I threw up-“

“I still want to draw you.”

“As a cautionary tale?” And suddenly Richard is on the ground- sat on the kerb, not fallen, fiddling with the thin straps of his shoes. “My feet are killing,” he mutters.

“Those shoes…kind of worth of it,” Robert says, lowering himself to the ground next to him.

Richard huffs a laugh. “Thanks.”

“look, I’m gonna give you my email address,” Robert says, digging a biro out of his jeans pocket and taking Richard’s hand. “It’s a uni account so you’ll know I actually am a student, not just some random creep-“ he wrote it down on Richard’s hand, and underneath: “My full name’s Robert de Vere. My advisor is Professor Michael de la Pole, if you want to check with him that I’m a real student. And then if you’re up for it, let me know, we can meet up, get a coffee, talk about- things. How it would work, what I’d be doing.”

“And you’re sure you’d want me to keep my clothes on?” Richard asks, and he’s leaning in, his lips are so close to Robert’s they’re practically kissing already and Robert…

“I want you to be sober if we decide to take them off,” Robert murmurs, pulling back.

Richard turns his gaze back to the floor and nods.

“I’ll call you when I’m sober,” he agrees, then pulls a phone out of his pocket and adds, “I’m gonna call a cab now.”

Robert nods in acknowledgement as Richard begins to dial the number. “I’ll wait until it comes,” he says.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Robert insists. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” Richard says, but it’s almost sharp, and after he’s done with his call they sit in awkward silence until the taxi shows up. Richard gives Robert his jacket back without so much as a “Bye then,” and as Robert watches him be driven away he has a sinking feeling in his stomach that he isn’t going to see Richard again.

It’s a complete surprise, then, a fortnight later, when he gets an email apologizing for time past, but does Robert still want to draw him, and would he like to meet for coffee to discuss it in person? And Robert, who has painted nothing, and who has thought of nothing else for most of the last fourteen days sends a reply straight back that says _God Yes._


End file.
